A bit of prep time on the cx bike today, not much of need, change of tire, wipe down, out for a ride to shake it all out, just prep for the Brandywine Valley Roubaix.  
The reg list is cool, full of friends, good cycling peeps,  this ride is a treat!

We shook it out, the bike and me,  not much talk, didn't take long, zip here and there, and onward we kept going.   We stopped by the river and the bike lazed in the sun on the little shells and warm sand.

"Yo, get up"  I squawked, We've got Horse Legs, Boyz II Men, Stony Stony lane, ahead.  I gave a little nudge, and we were on our way.

It feels good to ride with my friend, on the old trails again.

"Left here!" the bike said,  "I know", we turned up Nature Boy.

around the old reservoir, dropped into the Meadows behind the rec center.
Keeping a speedy click, jumping the rocks, knock out the turns cold.
and down the Monster.
Rolling down the Monster, with good speed, scattering the rocks, absorbing the bumps.
"did you fart?"  the bike said to me
We laughed, and did a big fish tail skid to a stall on to the Forbidden Drive.
Rolled down main st, full of strut.
The head wind, ffft, nothing at all.

See ya Sunday,  dlowe


3 climbs

I had a plan to do  3 of my at the moment favorite climbs,  got two of them in, got hungry, and skipped the last one.  Grabbing a stuffed bread, I sat, and ate it in the sun!

Cheers, dlowe



good Charlie Southgate taught me the handshake,
maybe it was on one of the spring classics, in front of big Al's house where I picked it up.

Mid-ride photo, with Anthony, John and I.
           photo: Anthony Hennessy

I went to a bunch of bike shops, searching out where to buy my first bike,
finally I found a shop, and got a schwinn, a moab.
I broke that bike, broke lots of bikes and bits, lots of bike stuff I've busted up over the years.
Anthony was the one who sold me that  first bike, and we've been friends since.
and ride together,
The man who sold me my first bike, is a good bloke, good friend, big hearted folk.
           photo: Anthony Hennessy

I've prideded myself with trying to be a grand minion.
then it hit me in my head, right in the nose, a clean pop
I've settled in, glided, not doing enough, to stay honest.   Just cause I'm a minion, don't mean, ...
that I don't take chances, don't have to learn,... shit, of all the stupid shit I do on the bike,
at work, at times, I've been lulling myself, sitting a bit too comfortable.
to be the Best Minion, I have got to learn all the time, I've got to risk it,

   many times at work I love what I do, 
I am lucky
to have a good job, and work with good people

and if I get complacent, lackadaisical, 
lulled into feeling I'm competent enough,
Yo!  that's when I sink to the muck.
I am 
not doing my job, 
not an acceptable Minion

Readings been cool,  went from a fiction book about a Pulitzer prize news hound, to stories of Non-fiction book, writin by a Pulitzer prize winning bloke, not that you'd ever know cause he'd never bring it up. 



It's Sunday night.  Feeling pretty good, legs are tired.
got a couch awaiting,
got a swell wife
got a good book on the night stand.
F'n A

cheers, dlowe


#4 the Sign of the Beast

friday, laying in bed, thinking, before dozing off, I'm yearning for it,
got that need to mess it up, to compete, stir the cauldron,  maybe do one of them spring crits,
the Vino Velo, something spunk.

but I got out, Saturday, and went mountain biking,  by myself,  not going to hard, but, it's been a while and to me just riding a bit of Belmont then over to  the Wiss, takes a good bit outta me.

I want to let that beast sleep, take some deep breaths, and ride a bit, just ride some more.  Sunday I got out with friends.   I can keep the frisky bottled up a bit longer, that'd be good for me anyway.
I love the mtbike, I've forgotten how good it is to just ride with friends, always good, not much better than a ride with friends.   and there is always a bit of evil, jokes, pokes, prods, and a bit of frisky trail riding,

#4 is the sign of the beast today,
and our table marker,  for the toasted post ride bagels.   Today I was a Fucking Beast!

Cheers!  dlowe


Lonely Playground

My amigo Anthony texted me yesterday, to get out and ride.
It was the prod I needed, within a 1/2 hour I rolled up, and we rolled out.
A good chat down the tow path, we split apart on Harts Lane,  I attacked hills,
he rode back into the Wissahickon.  We were on different bikes, and I had plans to hit punchy hills.

            "The lonely playground"

Gorka, funny to say, an x-teammate, sent me an email, to chat, attached were a couple of his recent photo's he's been working on.  My cameras, and my camera skill had a layer of dust.  It got me out, and just did a bit,  to keep it fresh.   There is a small playground, close to me, I often ride by.
Not a house on the block, and always locked shut.

      I've tried to take pictures of it before.  They've come out flat, and not telling the story, a story that rolls around in my head, and the words, structure has never been,  defined enough to go anywhere with.

It's locked shut, shunned, lonely.  It's nice to think about the playground while I ride.  I dream up stories, and tales, of the site.

The loop I did ride yesterday was not long.  I rolled back toward the coffee shop,  thinking to pass, wave to some cycling peeps, and hit a couple of more punchy hills on the way home.

Anthony and Todd, were there, I hopped the curbed, chatted, Saw, of course other cycling peeps.
I am  happy, lucky, to have that coffee shop close by.   and after a good natured chat; baseball, cycling gear, movies, I was on my way, up a couple of more hills and home.

There is a playground in my head, with monkey bars, and slick metal slide, wobbly horses, a overflowing trash bin,...
just rolling around my mind, as I roll around pedaling the bike, it keeps me occupied.

roll on!   dlowe